The Hot Shot (Game On #4)

Finn knows this. It’s there in the way he looks at me from beneath his lowered lids, all covetous and hot like he’s planing things. “So fucking gorgeous.”


He goes at my poor, stiff nipple with short, leisurely licks, as if he’s testing my flavor, getting himself acquainted with my textures. Just enough pressure to make me feel it, want more.

A satisfied hum from his lips tickles, buzzes straight down to my clit.

I can’t take it.

“Will you…” I swallow convulsively, my body jerking as he flicks his tongue.

“What?” he whispers, idly dragging the flat of his tongue over my nipple again.

“Suck it,” I rasp. “Please. It aches so bad.”

A groan tears out of him, almost pained. He cups my breast in his big hand, plumping my flesh up for his pleasure. The first wet pull of his mouth has me biting back a whimper. My back arches off the bed, but he holds me fast, sucks me with rhythmic tugs.

“Finn.” My voice is thready, trembling. “Please. Suck them.”

He mutters hot, frantic words, his breath coming quicker. His mouth moves to my other nipple. Teeth nip and then the wet glide of his tongue before he sucks. It feel so good, I’m going to melt into a fucking puddle of heat.

My hips rock against the bed as I whine, needing more.

“Shhhh.” He kisses my nipple gently. “You don’t want to wake my parents.”

That sly whisper goes straight to my core. We shiver, sharing the illicit fantasy of pretending we might get caught. It makes everything more intense. The room seems darker, his skin on mine hotter.

Slow, lazy kisses pepper over my chest, as clever fingers drift down my trembling belly. His fingers are thick and long, and by the time he gently slides them over the swollen bud of my clit, I nearly come.

Finn rubs his cheek against my breast, his finger tip tracing the opening of my sex. “I want to fuck you now.”

I think I whimper. My hands claw at his shoulder, the back of his head.

He gives the curve of my breast a soft kiss. His voice is dark honey. “Will you let me, Chester? Will you let me fuck you?”

An incoherent sound leaves me. It’s enough for Finn.

Shadows shift as he rises above me, and then he moves into a shaft of lamplight. God, that body, golden and taut. I want to lick every inch of it. I need to feel it on top of me more.

He settles between my parted thighs, and he feels so good, hard and firm, his skin damp with sweat and emanating heat, that I groan again.

“Shhh,” he whispers in my ear. His body trembles. “God, you feel so good.”

My hands glide down his back, mapping the hard terrain of his body. I need him in me.

But he just touches my hair, looks down at me with eyes that show too much. “You okay with this, Chester?” The tenderness in his voice wraps around my heart and squeezes. “Me going bare?” Another caress along my cheek. “I can get something.”

“No.” I lick my swollen lips. “Just you. Now.”

His lashes lower in a sweep, and then he’s staring at me as if I’m Christmas. He draws his hips back, the round tip of his dick nudging my opening. And…

“Oh, fuck,” I moan. I feel that body move and all those muscles clenching as he pushes in, making room for himself inside me. So thick. So perfect. My insides grasp that hardness, holding onto the pleasure.

A helpless whimper breaks the silence. It is Finn.

Pausing halfway in, Finn braces himself on his elbows, his breath harsh. “Okay?”

Okay? I lift my hips, spreading my thighs wider. “More.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” he groans. One firm push and he’s balls deep, so big it hurts.

I want the pain. “More. More.”

Filthy words tumble from his mouth as he starts to move, giving me what I want. But it isn’t fast. It’s slow and savoring. Finn works me as if he’s memorizing every damn second of it. And I love it.

“Talk to me,” he pleads, moving in a slow steady fuck.

I can barely think, my world is a heavy glide of muscles and cock. “Talk?”

“Your voice,” he says. “Pure fucking sex. Love it.”

What this man does to me. I cup the sides of his damp neck, kiss my way along his jaw. “I love your cock.”

He trembles. “Yeah?”

“The first time I saw it, I imagined…”

Finn stills, pulsing inside me. “What? Tell me.”

“Sucking it.”

He groans deep, rocks against me. Sweat trickles down his temple, his breath is heat on at my ear. “Fuck. More, tell me more. How would you suck it, Chess?”

Slow shivers dance over my skin. “I’d put it in my mouth when it’s still soft. Feel it grow hard as I sucked it.”

“Oh, fuck.” He pounds into me—three hard thrusts that hit so deep I grunt each time—before he slows, deliberately dragging that thick, glorious cock of his in and out in that same evilly steady rhythm. His cheek nudges mine. “Then what?”

It’s almost too much, imagining Finn that way, while he’s actively thrusting into me.

“I’d want you writhing while I sucked you off. You’d lie there and take it, clutching the sheets, almost whimpering as I’d pull on your dick with my mouth.” God, I want that.

“Jesus.” He shivers, dips his head lower. Soft lips brush my shoulder. His voice is a deep rumble. “You gonna tie me up?”

In and out goes his cock, invading retreating. I swallow hard, try to concentrate on the words. “No,” I whisper. “You’d have to hold still on your own. Your willpower against my tongue. That’s part of the fun.”

He moans low and pained.

I run a hand down his back and cup his ass, push him into me. The muscles flex under my palm. “I’d milk you dry like that, Finn. Your thighs parted, your body strung tight.”

He grunts this time, his thrust a little less controlled, a little more greedy.

“After you come, I’ll keep you in my mouth until you got soft,” I whisper against his cheek. “Then nurse that dick hard again.”